


If the papers could lie tonight.

by nattycakes



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Dark fic, Elephant In The Room, Future Fic, M/M, So much angst, dark themes, sad fic, they can read the signs, they should talk
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-19
Updated: 2015-10-19
Packaged: 2018-04-27 02:08:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,145
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5029606
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nattycakes/pseuds/nattycakes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He knows the issue is hanging over their heads, it’s keeping them from being them. It’s creeping all over their happiness, this devil’s snare of emotions. It’s curling around the edges and keeping the light from coming through. </p>
<p>Small mentions in the prophet, people are going missing, magical creatures are having to register. </p>
<p>Draco can't bring himself to talk to Harry about it yet. He just can't get the words out.</p>
            </blockquote>





	If the papers could lie tonight.

**Author's Note:**

> I asked my friend for a prompt, and she said "they both know there is a problem, it's the elephant in the room." And I had a hard time at first writing this, then I was listening to Delta Rae "Bottom of the River", and this came through. You should all listen to that song, it's amazing. Other song that brought this fic to light was, "Angel Of Small Death & The Codeine Scene,". 
> 
> This is not betaed or brit picked, all mistakes are my own. Come see me on tumblr, I'm dormersensual.

There’s this issue. 

The issue. 

The big issue that Draco has opening his mouth to start, but can’t get the word out. 

He’s Draco Malfoy, and it just won’t form. If he wanted to hex the fire to be sparklers, he could, of course, but he can’t say what’s on his mind. What’s been on his mind for weeks. 

He has black circles under his eyes when he wakes. 

He quit bothering to hide them. 

He knows the issue is hanging over their heads, it’s keeping them from being them. It’s creeping all over their happiness, this devil’s snare of emotions. It’s curling around the edges and keeping the light from coming through. 

Draco’s not sure if there is light left to search for. 

But the absence of light is his biggest asset right now, he reasons. It’s like a million lumos at once, if only others could connect the dots. 

He also hates himself just a bit more for thinking about it that way. 

They’re sitting near the fireplace. Harry is reading the Evening Prophet and Draco has just been watching him read. Well mostly his husband’s eyes, drinking in every word. Draco had already read this evening’s paper. He knew what his husband was reading, why his fingers were clutching the edges just a bit tighter. 

All the regulations that had been lifted on House Elves, Werewolves, all of their hard work, was being undone. Well re-done, it was slowly going back to what it was. Registering, fingerprints, and even worse, saying what jobs other magical creatures could have. 

Draco knew where this line of thought lead, he knew what was happening.

The papers could have lied just one night, but no the truth was hidden. He wanted one more night with his husband. His love, clutching sheets and soft I love yous whispered into each other’s skin. Just one more night. 

Granger hadn’t been around for tea in a fortnight. As usual as it was, it was usual for her to overachieve. 

Draco hates that he still calls her Granger. Twenty years of admiration at her abilities, and he still calls her Granger. Their kids holiday together. He still thinks Scorpius and Rose will get married one day. And Merlin better save them all, because if they spawn the world may never be ready for that. 

It was the first time he’s smiled in weeks. 

His head hurts. His heart feels heavy. 

It’s just, that, in calling her Granger gives him a sense of normalcy. After all this time, he still feels like a stranger in his own life. 

And that’s eating him alive at the moment, along with the issue. 

He thinks he could handle one better without the other. 

But he’s too selfish to give up either. He wants to feel complete, but he feels inadequacy all over him. It skins into his skin and comes out with witty retorts to hide his nerves. 

He knows that he could wear a regular shirt around the house, roll up his sleeves and be normal. It’s just, he can’t. He knows that you can’t really see the mark anymore. It’s faded, it’s more like a scar. You can only see it in certain lights, and only at certain times of the day. 

He knows, he’s done the homework on this.

It’s so faint, but he feels it like it’s constantly burning. Like that marks knows him better than his husband does. He doesn’t think that’s silly, but he doesn’t think that’s true either. He scratches it when he’s very nervous. When he has to bring up subjects he’d rather just deal with later. Or if he’s feeling particularly self conscious. 

Like right now. He’s still looking at his husband’s face in the firelight, seeing the weariness in his eyes. He looks like how he wakes from his nightmares. Exhausted and manic. 

Harry thinks Draco doesn’t see this. He sees it every time. He knows when Harry wakes up panting, gasping out for Draco. 

He has always wanted to hold his hand and go, “Harry I love you, you’re okay, you’re with me, in our bed, I love you.” But he doesn’t. He just stays still and stays awake waiting for his lover’s breathing to even out. He knows Harry never really goes back to sleep, but at least he knows it was a nightmare. 

He never has the courage to ask if it’s a nightmare or not. 

He really ought to ask if they are nightmares. 

The papers could just lie tonight, and give them a chance to talk first. 

Scars fade. He knows. He can’t forget. 

He thinks other Wizards and Witches have forgotten. 

He so badly wanted to get rid of the house system at Hogwarts, stating that he thought it created lines and feels like your future is already picked for you. Like Dumbledore once said, “We chose to young.” But he was overruled. 

He sits there in his chair, staring at his husband of 7 years, Merlin does he love Harry. 

He thinks he always has. 

He’s still lightly scratching his arm. 

Not many deaths yet, not many people are missing. 

Voldemort can’t be back, he is gone. 

But you can’t kill an idea once it’s out there. 

His scar is starting to show without looking for it, it’s not a full outline yet. But it’s darker. 

Harry wakes up more and more, sweating and swearing. Draco grabs his hand one night and pulls him closer, and Harry kisses his neck. 

He can’t get the words to come out of his mouth yet, but he is getting better at gestures. 

They should talk, they both know. They’ve been through this before. On either side, they know. 

Draco took a small breath, “Harry,”, he feels like a coward. He can’t get past it. He doesn’t want it to be true. He wishes he could cry.

He liked the life he made, not the life that was picked for him. 

He was just lightly touching his arm now. He felt his husband grab for it, bringing it to his mouth and placing an open mouth kiss on the top, before putting the hand over his heart. “We have the advantage my love, this won’t be either of ours first time.” he said solemnly. 

Draco sobbed once, but then cried quietly, his husband stood up still holding Draco’s hand, showing he would like Draco to follow him. “My love, tonight, let’s remember what we’re going to fight for. If not for the future, for us.” And held Draco’s hand tightly as they went up the stairs to their room. 

It was the first of many nights where Draco worship Harry’s body as if it was the last night they would live. Slowly undoing each other. 

He thinks that night if the papers would just lie one night, he might be okay.

**Author's Note:**

> At the end of writing this fic, I cried. I felt this release of emotion that was building in me and begging to come out, so for all of you that is to say any of you who read it, thank you and l love you.


End file.
